Love is like Tennis
by Morenar
Summary: Tezuka lost a bet to Sanada in a tennis match. Now, he had to pay up. Shounen-ai, Sanada-Tezuka, one-shot.
1. Love is like Tennis

**Love is like Tennis**

**Summary:**

Tezuka lost a bet to Sanada in a tennis match. Now, he had to pay up.  
Shounen-ai, Sanada-Tezuka, one-shot.

* * *

"Game and match, Sanada, 7-6!" the referee called out.

The two players approached the net and shook hands. "Nice game."

For the first time, Tezuka Kunimitsu was shaken by losing a match. As he left the court, he held himself tightly, walking with calm measured steps to the locker room. A calm that he did not feel. In a moment of discomfort, he had let his guard down. Now, he had to pay the price. "_Tezuka, if you lose this match, you just have to do it once. It's a win-win. I'll leave you alone, either way."_

He had spent longer than he intended, collecting his gear, packing and repacking his bag. Sanada was all ready packed, leaning nonchalant against the door frame, watching with unreadable expression in his dark gaze.

"Let's go. I pay off my debt promptly." He blushed slightly, glad that his voice did not shake ... much. "Your place or mine?"

"Mine." Sanada turned around and led the way.

* * *

Sanada's house was full of straight lines. That was the first impression he had before he was pressed against the wall, Sanada towering over him. He gasped as Sanada's fingers tangled in his hair, tilting his head backward. Sanada kissed him, hard, demanding and forceful. His first impulse was to push Sanada back for this invasion. Instead, he suppressed it. He held himself still and waited for Sanada to end it. It felt like a lifetime before Sanada pulled back and released him.

"You're supposed to kiss back." Sanada's voice was deep, soft, slightly teasing.

"Aa. Sorry. I'll try." He felt warm and uncomfortable. Knew that he was blushing furiously and couldn't help it.

"Do you even know how?" Sanada was amused when he saw Tezuka turned even redder and started staring at his shoes. He had felt Tezuka tensed, then fought against his instinct, to allow the liberties Sanada was taking with him. So ... Tezuka was serious about fulfilling his part of the bargain. "Your first time?" A slight nod was his only response.

Sanada backed off to give Tezuka some space. He set his tennis bag beside his closet. Tezuka seemed to lose a little of his panicked look. "We could do this another time. I'm not in a hurry to collect." From the corner of his eye, he watched warring expressions flitted across Tezuka's face. Inwardly, he was disappointed. Not surprised, but still, he couldn't help hoping that he was wrong. Tezuka was straighter than a ruler. There was no doubt about it. No way he could win against biology.

"N .. no. Let me ... uh ..."

Sanada held out his right hand, testing Tezuka's resolve. Tezuka steeled himself before walking towards him. Tezuka's left hand tentatively slipped into his right. He did not stop. He stepped into Sanada's personal space, pressed himself against Sanada's solidity and tilted his head back. It was almost too painful for Sanada to witness. Like watching a rabbit forcing himself to walk into the lion's den. Gently, he bent down to seal the kiss. Slow sensuous lick to the lower lip till Tezuka parted his lips. Tongue took the invitation to explore palate. Slow and steady. Tip slipped down to brush against Tezuka's. Felt him tried to respond in kind, clumsy and stiff.

Sanada wrapped his left hand around Tezuka's waist. Tezuka tensed, then relaxed again. He pulled Tezuka closer while bending forward, forcing him slightly off-balanced. Tezuka compensated by wrapping an arm around his shoulders to steady himself. He broke their kiss to trail light kisses along Tezuka's jaw line. _Step by step_, he told himself. Tezuka tilted his head to accommodate him. He moved on to lick the shell of Tezuka's ear. Tezuka's breath hitched. Another tense moment before Tezuka relaxed again.

Next, he slipped his hand under Tezuka's shirt to stroke the dip of his spine. Like lightning, Tezuka pushed against him, stumbling back till he tripped over the sofa. He stayed frozen for a moment, dazed look in his eyes, breath heaving unevenly, trying to hold back a panic attack. "S ... Sorry. Sorry. I ... sorry. I..."

"... can't do it." Sanada finished for him. He made no move towards Tezuka. Left him there on the sofa till he calmed down. Watching the man he had been attracted to this entire time try to regain his composure. That was when he decided. "Tezuka," he said gently. When he had Tezuka's attention, he looked deep into the muddled eyes. "Go home."

"What?"

"Go home. You don't have to do this. I release you from the bet. It was a stupid thing anyway." He said gruffly.

"But ..."

"You're not ready. You'll never be. Forget it ever happened." It was one-sided after all, always had been. That was all the answer he was going to get. He just can't fight biology.

"But ... I gave my word. I never go back on my word."

"Tezuka. Go home. Right now. Before I lose control. Before you lose whatever respect we still have for each other." _Before I damage you irrevocably. Before you hurt me more than I could take._

"Sorry," Tezuka mumbled at his shoes.

"Look, I like you. I care about what happens to you. So, trust me on this. If this goes any further today ... you _will _get hurt."

The confession was like a splash of cold water. Tezuka snapped out of his anxiety, his pride stung. Honour questioned. His stubbornness came forth. "Sex is like tennis, right? If you would be patient with me, I'll learn and practice. With some training, I'll be ready."

"Damned it!" Sanada snapped. "Don't tempt me. Just go."

"Sorry. I ... see you tomorrow." Sanada growled in frustration as the door closed. Sex is not like tennis. Not to him.

The next day, Tezuka followed Sanada home again. It was hard to say no when Tezuka got stubborn. It began a month of lessons. Excruciatingly slow steps. Kiss, touch, caress, embrace, respond. Sometimes, Tezuka would panic and barricade himself in the bathroom, dying of mortification. Sometimes, Sanada would abruptly bundled Tezuka out the door. Sometimes, they would spend the night cuddled together. Training. Tennis training during the day. Another kind of training during the night. Sometimes, it's good to be wrong.

Eventually, Tezuka got over his inhibitions. Taught his body to respond to certain cues. Taught himself things that would make Sanada groan, and sigh, and growl, and even smile. It took a long time to pay off a bet. Exactly one month after they first kissed.

As they went on for the second month, Tezuka moved out of his apartment into Sanada's. They kept separate bedrooms, though both were rarely occupied at the same time. Sometimes, Tezuka wondered, who had actually paid whom for that bet. He still blushed shyly when a pretty girl flirted with him. If asked, he could honestly say he liked girls. But, he had learned to love Sanada Genichirou. That was all that truly mattered.

Love is like tennis. It's not easy. It doesn't come naturally. It requires patience and understanding. It needs time and trust. It takes a lot of hard work, repetitive practice, and carefully planned training, but he could learn. He could learn it well.


	2. Fundamental difference

**Fundamental difference**

**Author's note: **_I'm not reopening or making this into a series. This story was written by request. It is just a one-shot on Tezuka and Sanada that happens to be in the same universe and I don't want to add one chapter stories into my account. Makes finding all the inter-related fics easier. Chronologically, this chapter occurs after 'Love is like Tennis'.  
Just in case, this Universe is set in the future, after they graduated. Sanada and Tezuka were in special tennis school overseas preparing to enter the Pro circuit. There maybe another shortish chapter after this._

* * *

"Tezuka, wait up!" yelled a blond haired boy behind him.

Tezuka stopped. "Edvard."

The boy grabbed his sleeve. "Hey! I heard you moved in with Thunderstorm."

"So?"

Edvard lowered his voice conspiratorally. "What is he like, as house mate? How can you stand him?"

Tezuka gave Edvard a long look, till the other boy squirmed uncomfortable. "Come on ..."

"He is clean, neat, quiet, and pays the bills on time."

"You know what I ... erk!" The Finn had just caught the full power of Sanada's glare from across the court. He took one step away from Tezuka and quickly recited, "Coach Hildebert wants you in the gym in 10 mins."

By the time Sanada reached Tezuka, Edvard had disappeared into another building.

"Sanada?"

"Was he bothering you?"

"No. Was he bothering _you_?"

"Hmph! He stands too close," Sanada said darkly.

Tezuka did not miss the surge of possessiveness in his tone."I'll be late. Just go home without me."

Sanada gave him a wordless nod and left for the locker room.

Coach Hildebert and Tezuka's physiotherapist went through his monthly physical check up carefully. He had Tezuka working on light arm and shoulder exercises while the doctor checked his shoulder and elbow joints for discomfort. A reddish mark on the edge of his scapula gave the doctor some concern. Tezuka tried his best to lightly dismiss it as minor. Since he could not see the size and shape of the mark, he thought it best not to try to explain it.

It was the first time he had to lie, telling the doctor he did not remember how he got it. He could remember very well Sanada's mouth on his skin, sucking and nipping at the prominent bone while Sanada's hand was wrapped around him, squeezing and pumping him.

After the doctor was done, Coach sat him down for a little pep talk, as he liked to call it. "I heard you moved in with Sanada."

Tezuka nodded. He had just changed his address at the administration office in the morning. He should have guessed the news would spread within the day, thanks to the efficient grapevine made of office clerks.

"I am pleased to hear it, actually. You and Sanada are the only Japanese trainees we have here. It helps to have sympathetic company sometimes, to help deal with culture shock and homesickness."

"Helps keep expenses down," said Tezuka non-commitally. God forbid the next rumour circulating around would be how Tezuka and Sanada have sappy heart-to-heart from homesickness.

"I just want you to know I am supportive of this arrangement. So is Coach Etter," he said, referring to Sanada's trainer. "I do, however, need to caution you about managing your relationship with Sanada. You will be seeing a lot of him, here and at home. Sometimes, the competitiveness and too much close proximity can cause friction and resentment. And that will affect both your performances. This is why the two of you are placed in different groups."

Close proximity indeed. The trainer had no idea how close their proximity were at home. He firmly told his groin to take a cold shower before his cheeks caught on. He nodded wordlessly.

"Well, you are both mature and responsible young men. I trust you will work and live amicably with each other. And I hope, become even better athletes." He gave Tezuka a kindly uncle look. "My door is always open, if you have any problems."

"Thank you. I will be fine," said Tezuka. He stood up, taking the last sentence as dismissal and made his escape.

The smell of grilled fish assailed his nose the moment he stepped home. Sanada, to his surprise, turned out to be a decent cook. Tezuka was glad he did not have to eat take outs and microwaved food every dinner any more.

"Did you get 'the talk'?" Tezuka asked as he sat down at the dining table.

"Not yet. I have appointment with Etter tomorrow morning."

"Aa."

"What did Hildebert asked you?"

"Nothing. Just told me not to get too competitive and all that."

"What did you tell him?"

"What do you want me to tell him?"

Sanada placed his left hand over Tezuka's right. "Kitten, I just want to keep our story in line. You wouldn't want me to make a liar out of you, would you?"

"You all ready did." It was a flat statement, devoid of inflection.

Despite that, Sanada felt the uneasiness underlying that statement. "I'm sorry."

Tezuka sighed. "It's not ... I'm not accusing you ... Never mind. As far as my coach is concerned, it's just a convenient financial arrangement."

"It's true enough. It makes more sense to share expenses, among other things."

Tezuka coughed uncomfortably. "Let's just eat."

Tezuka stood sideways in front of the mirror. No matter how he turned his head, he could not see the mark on his back. He adjusted his glasses and pondered what to do about it. Then accepting it as nothing he could do, except to wait for it to fade naturally, he took off the rest of his clothes.

Sanada put away the last of the plates and headed for the bathroom. He could hear the shower from within. He opened the door and slipped in. Tezuka's figure was vaguely visible through the translucent glass panel that separated the shower from the rest of the room. He took a moment, like he always did, to enjoy the blurry silhouette of shapely arms and curved back. Then, he quickly strip away his clothes. He snagged a green tube from the bottom drawer. He liked the way the mint flavour made his kitten purr.

He remembered the first time Tezuka finally realised what was required of him. He had just gotten Tezuka comfortable with kissing and touching with hands. He had brushed his finger lightly over Tezuka's entrance, then pressed a finger lightly. Tezuka jumped like a scalded cat and barricaded himself in the bathroom. Then, he avoided Sanada for two whole days.

On the third day, Tezuka showed up at his door with a red face and a discrete brown paper bag. "I ... um ... did some research," he said, after Sanada closed the door. "It's ... ah ... Is there another way?"

"You can top. I don't mind."

"No, that's not what I meant." Tezuka was not able to meet his eye. "It's the procedure ... it's dirty!" He blurted out in shock indignation. Then, looking rather embarrassed at his outburst, he add, "I mean it's unsanitary."

Sanada resisted the urge to groan. "Sex is a messy activity. You want to back out?"

Tezuka gave him an exasperated look. Of course not. He was Tezuka Kunimitsu. He did not back out of anything.

"What do you have in the bag then?"

"Some things recommended by ... never mind. Do you mind if we bathe first?"

"Why?"

"If we are going to put things in our mouth and wherever, I'd prefer them to be clean."

So, Tezuka was going to go through with it. Even after 'research'. Well, Sanada wanted to see how far he could push Tezuka's resolve. "Let me watch you."

Tezuka only shrugged his indifference. He let Sanada watch him strip, then followed him into the shower. He had to keep reminding himself it was just like an onsen, minus the little white towels. Sanada was less self-conscious of his own nudity.

Since that day, the shower had become a ritual foreplay for Sanada. And Tezuka, being Tezuka, left the door unlocked as an open invitation. He only locked the door when he did not want Sanada in there. Sanada had to learn the silent language that was Tezuka's first language.

Tezuka could not help noticing the way Sanada's muscles bunched and slid under his skin. Sanada was more heavily muscled than he was. His body thicker and broader. His triceps and abdominal muscles were clearly defined. Despite being only 1 cm taller than himself, Sanada out-weighed him by 10 kilos. No, 12 kilos now, after Sanada had started advanced muscle building. And it showed.

Sanada, on the other hand, liked the lean build. Tezuka was actually underweight. So much so, he was the only one not under any kind of diet, much to the envy of their peers. He was beautiful, with lean muscles and long sinews that the edges of his bone stood out in sharp relief. His shoulder blades outlined against his skin like little wings. He was just rinsing himself off, his back turned to Sanada. Sanada kissed the other unmarked corner of his wing.

"Don't." Tezuka pulled away slightly.

"You don't like it?"

"No. It's just ..." He paused to take a deep breath. "You left a mark last time."

"Does it hurt?"

"Look. You know my history. My arms and shoulders get scrutinised more than anyone else in the institute. If you leave a mark, there will be questions I'd rather not answer."

"Or lie about." Now Sanada knew why Tezuka was upset.

"Aa."

"Then it's all right, if I leave a mark no one else can see."

"Wh ...! Aah ..."

Sanada knelt down and bit Tezuka in the left cheek. Then licked and sucked the love bite. "I'm quite certain no one would look down here. Or I shall kill him for sexual harassment."

Tezuka coloured. "I can stand up for myself."

"I know. But I don't like to share."

Tezuka closed his eyes. Who was he kidding. Neither of them were the easiest people to get along with. And some things, he was not willing to compromise on. He valued his independence and autonomy. And he did not like Sanada's possessiveness. "You don't have to be so hostile to other people. Especially on my behalf."

"Hostile? You mean that yellow monkey?"

"His name is Edvard."

"I don't like him standing so close to you and touching you."

"He is just like Kikumaru. He doesn't mean anything by it. Eventually, he would get the idea and ..." Tezuka stopped himself. Sanada's expression had turned black. "Are you jealous?"

Sanada could not meet his eyes and turned aside, moving out of the range of his myopic focus.

"Gen."

"I am not you. I can't just ... detach."

Tezuka sighed. No, Sanada did not so much detach as repel everyone. "You are not making things easy for yourself." Evard's perception of Sanada as threatening and hostile was not unique. Only Tezuka and a few of the coaches were not affected by his scowls and intensity.

"I don't have your kind of popularity. People like you. They are attracted to you like magnet."

"It's not popularity ..." Tezuka stopped a moment to ponder. "Maybe it was a Rikkai thing."

"What?"

"Every time you step into the court, you dominate it. It's overwhelming. It makes them feel threatened with physical or mental harm. Even though it's just tennis."

"Do you feel that way too? Threatened?"

"No. I know I can handle you." It would have sounded arrogant, coming from anyone. Sanada was the toughest player there. Strength and speed were a potent combination.

"What do you mean then, by Rikkai thing? Are you saying my school team act like a bunch of thugs?"

Tezuka tilted his head. "No. It's just ... subconsciously, people feel uncomfortable. The style of tennis Rikkai plays ... harms the opponents in some way."

Sanada blinked, not quite understanding where Tezuka was going with this.

"The most obvious, look at Kirihara's style."

"Violent and impulsive. But he was the only one that plays like that."

"He was actually the most obvious and least threatening. Yukimura was ... more deadly. Yanagi too. It's the attitude. Like a form of psychological attack that affects the person. But the harm carries over, outside the court. Despair is worse than just losing a match, Gen. That's what frightened them. That somehow, when it was over, they won't be the same person they were. Something broke inside."

"I do that too?"

"You remembered your match last week with Reiser?"

Sanada blinked. He played as he normally did, finishing the match with 6-0, 6-0 without dropping a point.

"Reiser was a wreck after that and he wanted to quit tennis. I am not saying you did it on purpose. But you carry that potential and it shows. It makes you threatening and unapproachable." Tezuka blinked to himself. Like pot calling kettle. He was quite unapproachable himself. Maybe it took a pot to understand the kettle.

Well, Reiser was a fool with overblown ego. And Sanada did not suffer fools gladly. Neither did Tezuka. But at least, Tezuka did not look like he would maim the fool that crossed his path. Tezuka just detached himself, like a cicada shedding skin. The fool left feeling a harmless fool. Sanada was more like a porcupine, armed to the teeth and trigger-sensitive. He shot to kill and he did not even notice anyone or anything in the crossfire.

But Tezuka's policy was, as long as it wasn't his business, he stayed out of it. Reiser was Coach Etter's problem and Reiser pretty much deserved what he got. Sanada, got the reputation he deserved too, though it did not seem to bother him.

But since Sanada and him started this ... relationship, Sanada had been pricklier than ever to the people who worked with Tezuka. It became Tezuka's problem. Something he could no longer ignore. He did not want to bring this up, but he would not keep quiet when Sanada was encroaching on his ground, no matter how well intentioned. He was his own person, and he did not appreciate being treated like a glass flower.

"Gen," he said. "Let me fight my own battles. Don't alienate the people I have to work with. It's also easier on you if you don't alienate other people around you."

"Kunimitsu." Sanada rested his forehead on Tezuka's shoulder. He never realised how difficult he made Tezuka's position within his own group. Isolating Tezuka from everyone else, like he had isolated himself. There were precious few who could bear his company. And those few lasted long enough to make regulars in Rikkai.

Maybe that was the difference between them. Despite Tezuka aloofness, people were attracted to him. Like moths to a flame. And Tezuka was a brightly burning inferno.

Even he felt that attraction. That was why he could not stay away. He wanted to touch the flame that was Tezuka. Perhaps, like everyone else, they were subconsciously drawn to it. That dancing sparkling fire. They reached for him, hoping ... hoping for what? No one entered the court with Tezuka and left unscathed. Unchanged. Sanada thought Tezuka was very like Yukimura that way. Perhaps, they were all looking for something from Tezuka.

Maybe, they were looking for a miracle, to heal the invisible wounds they carry. They knew they would get burned. They knew it would hurt like hell, but they eagerly sought it anyway. _He_ eagerly sought it anyway. Perhaps, subconsciously, he knew, despite the burning pain, it also heals the broken part inside him. The fire that cauterises the wound so it may heal.

That, Sanada thought, was the fundamental difference between them. And their tennis. And their relationship.

* * *

_OMG! I hope Sanada is not too OOC. It ended up a character analysis between the two. It was supposed to be light and funny. Somehow, it ended up serious, angsty and heavy._


	3. Innocent Exposure

**Innocent Exposure**

Sanada waited impatiently by the cordoned off railing. On his side, several ladies giggled and squealed excitedly. Some did not ever bother to hide the drool in their eyes as they watched the straining figures before them.

On the other side of the rail, the floor was covered with thick tatami mats and men in bleached white gi. The men's judo club was made up of mostly stocky well muscled male specimens. Thick legs, powerful arms, corded necks. From what little he could observe, most of them even out muscled him. All that rippling flesh modestly covered with long pants and long sleeved judo gi uniforms, of course.

But, like an ugly duckling; or rather, to Sanada's biased eyes, a graceful swan among ugly ducks; Tezuka's lean figure stood out among them. He had his hand on his randori partner's collar and was on constant move, though Sanada had no idea what he was doing. It looked like Tezuka was simply shifting his weight around without actually stepping anywhere.

His partner, who was almost twice his size, though they were about the same height, grunted and changed his grip. A few more moments and suddenly, Tezuka was thrown in the air. His top jerked open, exposing a shoulder and a good portion of his torso. There was a loud thump as he landed on his back. He laid on the mat a moment before picking himself up. The opening made the contours of his chest and rippling abdomen were clearly visible. Sanada wanted to eat him right there and then.

Suddenly, there were squeals next to him and some excited remarks about Tezuka's well toned abs. That dampened his mood considerably even as he watched Tezuka shrugged back into his jacket and retied his obi belt. His partner gave him a few more pointers, putting his hands on Tezuka's elbow and lapel. Then, the whole process started again.

Somewhere on the floor, another jacket got ripped open on another well-toned male torso and another round of giggling erupted next to his seat.

And dear kami-sama! Was that one guy pinning another one under him in a tangle of arms, legs and necks?

Sanada, not for the first time, questioned what he was doing there. He was not a fan of judo and he did not like sitting on the sidelines with a group of drooling females.

No one was ever in danger of being disrobed in kendo. Why can't his Kunimitsu take up a hobby like kendo instead?

When they arrived home, Sanada locked the door. Then, he immediately pressed Tezuka against the wall and kissed him roughly and forcefully. His hands fumbled for the opening on Tezuka's shirt. He gripped both sides and pulled the innocent shirt apart. Buttons popped and zinged around them. Seams parted with a loud rip.

"Gen!" Tezuka managed to protest before his brain melted. Sanada had latched on to one nipple and doing interesting things to it with his tongue.

An hour later, Tezuka lay exhausted on the couch. He wasn't sure letting Sanada come with him to judo practice was the best idea he ever had. Sanada seemed more intense and impatient just after practice. Not that he was really complaining. His rear end was sore but happy.

But he would at least like to make it to the bed once in a while. The couch was harder to clean than bed sheet. This was why he took extra time to shower and prepare himself in the locker room. He never made more than 3 steps past the door after Judo practice.

Above him, Sanada began to stir, rolling himself to the side and sliding down to the floor heavily.

Tezuka bent down to kiss his shoulder.

Sanada sighed. "Teach me judo."

Tezuka blinked. He thought Sanada told him he did not like judo.

"It should be outlawed. But since it's not illegal, this is the only thing I can do."

Tezuka blinked again. Judo illegal? It's an Olympic sports event! Although he wasn't a serious competitor, he did promise his grandfather to keep up with his practice. And the judo team were always eager to have a non-competitive 2-dan black belt like Tezuka to spar with. He was a technical judoka, with broader range of techniques, but less depth of experience in practice.

"Look! The only person allowed to rip your top off is me. Even if I have to kill myself learning it."

A corner of Tezuka's mouth quirked upward. It was nice not to go to judo night all by himself. And he did not even need to introduce grappling to Sanada. But he was quite certain Sanada would enjoy that part of the lesson very much.

* * *

Author's note:  
Lurking in judo forum messed with my brain. Damn you, Tezuka!


	4. Old friend, new enemy

**Old friend, new enemy**

"Ha!"

Pok ...

"Nggh!"

Pok ...

"Urrgh!"

Pok ...

"Tarundoru!"

"Ganbatte, Genichirou!" Yukimura Seiichi smiled pleasantly across the net at Sanada Genichirou.

On the sidelines, Sanada's team mates murmured restlessly. This friendly match between Germany and France tennis institutes turned out rather surprising results.

Sanada was one of the best players in their institute. That is, he was light-years ahead of everyone else on team, except Tezuka Kunimitsu. Only Tezuka seemed to be able to keep up with Sanada. They had traded Number One rank in the institute back and forth between them for a year now.

Now, it seemed another player of Sanada's calibre had appeared. Not only that, Sanada the Thunderstorm and Yukimura from the French team obviously had history. And Sanada was losing. Losing very badly.

"If all the French players are that good, we are in serious trouble," said Edvard morosely. He was a tall lanky Finn with charming golden curls. He had his arms draped companionably over his doubles partner, Piotr Kaminski, a dark haired serious-looking Polish boy.

Except for Tezuka, who was warming up for the next match two courts away, the whole team were leaning eagerly over the banister of the seating area. They were expecting an entertaining rout. After suffering innumerable merciless defeats at Sanada's hand, it was only fair to watch Sanada wipe the court at the _enemy's_ expense. And he had delivered rather spectacular performances in the last two rounds. However, Yukimura Seiichi seemed to be most inconsiderate and ignorant of their intended script. In fact, he was so inconsiderate, he was winning at 4-1.

"I wish Tezuka were here. He could translate what they are saying," said Piotr.

"Don't need language to translate tennis. That Yuck-guy is obviously egging Sanada. He hasn't done anything except return all of Sanada's shots like they were light rallies. Even the break your gut-strings and kill you dead homocidal ones! Who is this monster?"

"Yukimura Seiichi. Ex-captain of Rikkai University Affiliated Middle School. Sanada's tennis captain in junior high." A calm deep voice interjected.

"Tezuka! You're back. Just in time to see Thunderstorm get slaughtered." Edvard pulled Tezuka from the back of the standing crowd to the front. Now that they knew Yukimura was Sanada's ex-captain, they could set aside their scripted team solidarity. The next best thing to Sanada pummelling someone else was Sanada getting pummelled. The new script involved enjoying the view of Sanada getting creamed, crushed and pulverised for a change. Even if it meant taking a loss on their side.

On the court, Sanada was completely oblivious to everything around him. There was only one person on his mind and there was only one target that his eyes had locked on. He did not even notice Tezuka standing only a metre away when he walked past to change court.

Only one person could do that to Sanada. Only Yukimura Seiichi.

Yukimura had also noticed Tezuka's eyes, intently tracking Sanada's progress around the net. He gave Tezuka a look and a nod, as if to pull Tezuka's attention away from Sanada to him. A greeting and a promise.

Tezuka held his gaze for a heart-beat, then slowly nodded back, before deliberately turning away. Terse, dignified, and perfunctory. One captain's greeting to another, and an answering challenge.

Sanada had reached the baseline position. Tezuka watched him carefully. The way he shook his head once, too quick to be noticeable. He knew Sanada was feeling the effects of Yukimura's tennis and was trying to shake off his worsening vision. Then he held up the ball to Yukimura, to signal that he was using a new ball in the next service. And served it right into the net.

"Fault!" announced the referee.

"Daijoubu?" Yukimura's soft concerned voice drifted in the silence.

"I don't believe it!" Jan Heinrich exclaimed. He was the German aggressive base-liner from Sanada's subgroup. "Sanada just faulted!"

"Tezuka ... What is wrong with him?" Raul Pacelli looked perplexed. He was another member of Sanada's subgroup. "Sanada had never faulted any of his serves in a match before."

Every single pair of eyes turned to him for explanation. Tezuka sighed. This was probably why he cannot seem to get on well with Yukimura. He disliked Yukimura's style of tennis. And that was saying something. But it seemed to always fall on him to explain Yukimura's deadly games. "Yips-like effect. Sanada is slowly losing his sense of vision."

"That is impossible. He did not hit his head, did he?" Raul's Italian-accented German was getting thicker in the excitement. It took a moment for Tezuka to filter the syllables, separate the German words and translate them into Japanese before he understood the comment.

"No. It is Yukimura's tennis. It is a mental effect. No matter what you do, he always return everything. It forms a sense of helplessness. You will understand when you play him in the next match up."

"You played him before?"

"Yes. A long time ago."

"How do you beat him?"

"Belief in yourself and have fun."

They stared at Tezuka incredulously. "What kind of advice is that?!"

"Boys! Pay attention to the game. Especially you, Raul." The coach turned towards Tezuka speculatively. "I can see why he was called the 'Child of God' in Japan. He has incredible control, fast reflexes and good mental strategy."

"He has a nickname?" Edvard crowed excitedly. "What is Sanada's? Tsunami? Typhoon? Earthquake? Volcano?"

Tezuka sighed. Why was it that Sanada was so easily associated with natural disasters? Especially when his tennis was deteriorating into an unnatural disaster the longer he played against Yukimura.

"The Emperor," answered the coach to 'ooh' and 'aah' of impressed young athletes.

"That means Tezuka has one too!" Edvard said excitedly. "What is Tezuka's?"

"I don't think there is one," said the coach.

"The Pillar." Yukimura winked conspiratorially. He stood relaxed and calm while Sanada called time-out to replace his ruined tennis racquet.

Tezuka's team mates stared at him agape. "The Pillar?" They looked at each other in disbelief before they broke into gales of laughter.

"Tezuka … we know you have a stick up your ass … but … but … we didn't know it was that big!"

Tezuka's eye-brow twitched.

"Oh dear," said Yukimura in Japanese. "I think something is lost in translation." He looked at Tezuka with pure innocent puzzlement. "I'm afraid German is not my best language."

Tezuka stared at him, telepathically conveying his utter disdain for Yukimura's innocent act and the fact that he did not believe an iota of it. No, despite being his lover's best friend, Tezuka simply could not get himself to like Yukimura. He felt only a slight twinge of guilt for predicting that Raul was going to end up forfeiting his match. But he might just spend an hour or two with Raul later. It would please him very much to see Raul last six games – three games more than Yukimura planned for the Italian.

He cannot wait to play against Yukimura tomorrow and wipe that smug grin off his face. It was time to resume the match they had left unfinished in elementary school. Yukimura better had something more than 'yips' or he would be shown up as a one-trick-pony. Because Tezuka Kunimitsu had had yips, real life ones. Tezuka Kunimitsu had fought with and fought against yips. Real-life, heart-freezing, nerve-wrecking, excruciatingly painful ones. And Tezuka Kunimitsu had conquered yips.

Tomorrow, Yukimura Seiichi would see Tezuka's real tennis. Undiluted, refined and flawless.

Then ... Then, Genichirou's eyes ... _His_ Gen's eyes will look at him. And only him.

**Note:**

Tarundoru – Slacker / Don't slack off

Ganbatte – Do your best

Daijoubu? – Are you okay?

I wrote one on Sanada being jealous. It's only fair to show Tezuka's side, right? :D I just hope all three are not too out of character.

I know … it was supposed to be a one-shot that became three. But Yukimura bugged me for an appearance because I shoved him back on the shelf in SM. So here is No. 4 for this universe, dedicated to everyone who reviewed, alerted, fav'ed and read this story. As always, criticisms and feedbacks are loved to pieces.

P.s. I'm so sorry. I did mention Tezuka's notebook. But he threatened not to cooperate in SM if I embarrass him with said XXX notebook. (Yes, this meant I actually have more stories in this universe. But I do not actually write them for various reasons.)


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